The Terran Gambit (Episode #1: The Pax Humana Saga) by Endi Webb Page A

to achieve the unachievable, in order to work the miracle that the emperor set before me, I needed the best. The very best. I begged him for the Caligula ,” he waved towards his legs, “I was on my knees, begging him for the best battleship in the empire, because I knew that with any less, I was on a fool’s errand.”
    Removing the hand from the star-struck Ensign’s elbow, he walked back to Captain Titus. “And that, Captain, is why we are here. I trust you and the crew will carry out my orders with exactness and excellence. If you do, you will all be richly rewarded.” He fell silent, still looking at Titus with his steely-set eye, leaving unsaid the consequences of failure.
    Titus nodded, and studied the console next to him. “Gravitic banks will finish charging soon, sir.”
    “Excellent, Captain. Sound the order to shift to the Epsilon Eridani system when all the preparations are complete.” And with that, the Admiral strode off the bridge deck, and disappeared down the hallway near the rear science station.
    And that, thought Captain Titus, is how the big boys motivate the grunts. Even if he knew the truth about why the Caligula was really chosen—it was the exact same battleship model as the Fury . That and nothing more.
     
     
    * * *
     
    Jacob Mercer could hardly contain his excitement, in spite of his injuries. He peered out the viewport of the freighter, leaning across Ben Jemez to do so, and studied the forming tropical storm in the Gulf of Mexico. Even though he basically had worked in space for years now, it was a sight that never got old.
    “Get a good look,” said Ben, squishing back into his chair to give his friend ample room to gawk. “We’re not going to see it for awhile.”
    “Yeah, I know.” Jake ran his hand through his dark brown locks of shaggy hair and frowned. “But hey, I’m sure some of the other planets will be fun to look at too. And maybe, if we’re really lucky, we can find you a hot chick at some port of call in some backwater world where no stories will ever get back to your Aunt,” he said, referring to the only living relative Ben had left after Dallas. His friend doted on the woman, and she repaid him with love and motorcycles—the old bird had inherited a vast fortune that she enjoyed spending on her nephew, often to excess.
    “Somehow I doubt that.” Ben ran his hand through his own neatly parted hair and yawned—Jake had kept him up the night before with a trip to the pub on the Miracle Strip Parkway, in one last vain attempt to accidentally run into tattooed space-jock girl. “You know, Captain Watson is notorious for strict adherence to rules, in spite of him being a big-shot Resistance commander and all. You do realize he’s going to make you get a haircut?”
    “Hey, it’s got me this far. You’re just jealous that you could never pull this off.” He jabbed Jemez in the ribs once as he sat back in his seat, and stroked his hair again, slowly, for his friend to see.
    “Would you two shut up? The deck officer is trying to get all of our attention!” Megan Po hissed, turning around to face them from the row ahead, holding a finger up to her lips, a furrowed ridge of frustration forming on her forehead.
    “Yes, ma’am,” they both said.
    Jake and Ben both looked up at the lieutenant now standing before the fifty-odd officers. Jake recognized the man from the secret Resistance meetings he had been attending since D-day.
    “We can talk freely here—all present are certified, card-carrying Resistance fighters and we’ve swept the ship for listening devices. As you know, the nine Freedom-class heavy cruisers in construction at Geneseo shipyards—“
    “Liberty Station, you mean,” said an older officer in the front row. “We’re all family here, and we’ll call it what it is.”
    The deck officer smiled. “Of course. As I said, the nine ships in construction at Liberty Station are nearly complete—some more than others. What you don’t know